


while we're young

by zukofenty



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: 50 first dates!AU, F/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:28:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24745372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zukofenty/pseuds/zukofenty
Summary: The one where Katara is suffering from short-term memory loss after an accident. Yet, Zuko refuses to let her forget him. Even if it takes fifty first dates for her to remember who he is.“Katara of the Southern Water Tribe can’t bend cum! How can you call her a Master Waterbender?” He shouts, and Katara had half a mind to smack the shit out of him right in the middle of a male strip club.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 46





	while we're young

**Author's Note:**

> Requested as part of my [drabbles for BLM](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24515347) ♡

“Do it. Just for me, please?” 

Katara throws back a shot of fire whiskey, the lipstick the makeup artists at the spa delicately applied on her lips now staining the small glass. “You’re _disgusting_ ,” she shouts over the overwhelming music, buzzing at her ears. 

As the minutes passed, the vociferations and ear drum splitting melodies were steadily melting into moments where she wasn’t sure she was irritated or not. She narrowly misses a man-thong thrown her direction, which Suki makes quick work of grabbing and shoving into her bra. 

“Pretty please!” Zuko whines, entirely cute. Too cute. His face was impossibly red, the flush running down his neck and muscled arms. 

“Get the fuck out of my face.”

“Not until you—” He hiccups loudly, and smushes her cheeks with his liquor sodden hands. “Cum bend for me!” Another hiccup has tears welling up in his eyes. 

Everything was sticky and sweaty but Zuko’s smile was all sweetness that managed to numb any other feeling. It almost had her swooning. Just for a mere moment, she swears. Zuko was handsome, undeniably so. He was always handsome, but after all the years of knowing him, she wasn’t entirely sure how she missed it. The moment where his baby fat melted into something so angular and chiseled and revealed how he looked so much like a _man_ now. All rough edges and a defined jawline that had both her heart and pussy ready to fall out. She turns her head, trying to tame the blush dusting her cheeks. 

“Why would you _call it that_.” She looks around the bar, praying no one was sober enough to witness the Fire Lord in all his sloppy glory. 

“Semen bending sounds _freaky_ , ok? Cum bending just sounds so much more _fun_.” He just squishes her face even harder. Her cheeks were cold and felt like relief in the heat of the room. 

“You’re smearing my foundation.” 

“You’re not answering my _question_.” He smirks, shaking her head back and forth. “Katara of the Southern Water Tribe can’t bend cum! How can you call her a Master Waterbender?” He shouts, and Katara had half a mind to smack the shit out of him right in the middle of a male strip club. 

“Semen is like 99% water,” he tries yelling with her hand pressed firmly against his lips. 

“And you’re a bitch and half,” she garbles, face resembling a puffer fish. Even trying her hardest, she can’t seem to bring herself to be upset. It’s rare to see him smile these days. 

“Zuko, you’re _annoying_.” She squeezes his nipples until he releases her from his hold. 

He’s undeterred through, and throws an over her shoulders, pulling her close. She can smell the alcohol mixing with his breath, the warmth fanning her cheeks and making her want to just lean in closer and closer, until she’s lost in all that’s Zuko. 

“ _You love me_.” He insists, burping. 

//

“ _You love him_.” 

“Eat a dick,” Katara groans. Despite it being six in the morning, Toph was looking entirely too happy. 

“ _You love him_ ,” Suki sing-songs, coming in to dump a plate of dumplings on the glistening dining table, the extravagant thing cleaned meticulously every hour by the Fire Nation palace staff. 

The two were too easy to tease, too easy to rattle these days. Suki and Toph relish in this, completely taking advantage of how much closer the duo has seemed to gotten in the past year or so. Relationships and romance weren’t at the forefront of anyone’s mind when rebuilding the world took priority. Instead, their bond seems quieter, one bred from the type of trust that couldn’t be mimicked with just longing lust. 

All the same, making them feel uncomfortable was just too fun. 

“Eat a dick and _die_ ,” she grunts, mouth stuffed with the greasy food, entirely avoiding the duo’s knowing looks and snickers. She was _much_ too occupied with the documents in front of her. 

She’s since shrugged off her parka and slipped into custom, blue robes Zuko commissioned for her. 

Whenever she arrives at the Fire Nation, curiosity gets the best of her. The once a month International Peace Meetings always came with a headache, but he hoped to alleviate some of the irritation with complimentary outfits for her and Toph. Rushing off to look at whatever new robe he had made for her, she doesn’t even spare him a glance. They’re always different, complete with intricate details to weave all cultures of the nations together. They somehow always manage to fit the two women perfectly. Even when she lost a boob and a fourth from trying a new sea prune stew cleanse, and Toph gained an ass cheek after developing and repeatedly testing out a new squatting metal bending form. 

“See, I don’t _love_ anyone! I am a changed woman!” 

Toph humorlessly laughs. “ _Sure you are, Katara_.” 

“Fuck you, Toph! I fuck whoever I want! My vagina and me are free women! Slutty, free women!” 

“You fucked Jet didn’t you,” Toph deadpans.

Katara gasps, food falling out her mouth. “ _How did you know_!” 

“How big was it?” 

Katara looks around, to ensure Sokka, Zuko, and Aang were still sparring, testing out Zuko’s new pair of swords. “It rattled my cervix,” she whisper-screams. 

“That’s not a measurement in inches!” 

Zuko was glad for moments like this, when Toph and Katara were at each other’s throats, or when he got to yell at Aang and Sokka again over sparring forms. When he’s able to see the people he loved. With all the stress that came with being Fire Lord, sometimes Zuko felt like he was drowning, while nothing much was getting done at the same time. He was always fucking up somehow, needing Iroh to step in more often than not during meetings, or dodging assasination attempts. 

_“Suki, I got this one!” Zuko cheerily yells out to the Kyoshi warrior guarding the outside of his room. He flips the assassin over his shoulder, his eyes still closed and his infectious yawn even causing the murderer to yawn, too._

_By the time she enters the room, sword at the ready, Zuko’s back in bed, curled around his comforter and sleeping soundlessly. The assassin's hands were bound behind his back, and a pillowcase was shoved in his mouth to not disturb the Fire Lord’s slumber._

Iroh doesn’t remember a time when Zuko’s gotten more than a few hours of sleep. The bags beneath his eyes were becoming a permanent fixture. Sometimes, he’s so invested in the finely printed characters of contracts and funding expenditures and appearance requests, he doesn’t realize he’s been concentrating for days on end, until his hair is greasy and his own eyes are watering from the must of his ballsack sweat. 

“I’m a rich bitch and I smell like it,” he lamely insisted, completely avoiding Katara’s wince. 

“You smell like vaginal discharge.” 

He sighs, slamming his head into the library’s desk. 

“Well what’s the point of washing my ass if no one’s going to eat it?” Even when a burst of water smacks him square in the face, he doesn’t move. 

“I’m doing this all wrong.” He visibly relaxes when she brings a hand to rub circles into the knot on his back. “How have I managed to fuck up every single thing in my life? I thought your twenties were supposed to be fun,” Zuko whines, even after ditching his robes in the sweltering heat until he’s in nothing more than a pair of slacks. 

Katara’s hand comes to mindlessly trace the scar on his chest. A force of habit from the months after the war, when she made up every excuse in the book to come visit him, or have him come to the Southern Water Tribe. Self-appointing herself as his personal healer. She knows he still feels a dull ache of pain even years later, and it breaks her heart all the same. 

“Look at the bright side! At least you beat teenage pregnancy! That has to count for something.”

It was easy, being like this with her. Hair down, worries coming to the surface. Zuko’s never been one to talk about his feelings. The stress that came with being Fire Lord. Even years later, the paralyzing fear he wakes up with, nightmares often making him come out of the Agni Kai with either him or Katara dead. Stubbornly, he refused to let anyone see him, the true feelings bubbling underneath the surface. The once a month he gets to see everyone in their friend group was really the only time he feels like he could breathe. 

They were warriors before they were children. Despite being forced to grow up years beyond his capacity, Zuko still felt helpless toddler, stumbling over their first steps. He might as well be a hapless kid shitting himself in an oversized diaper. It was too much. Guards still couldn’t be trusted, advisors were overbearing, officials scoffed at his quote unquote “lofty” goals. 

He sees it, how his friends try to get him to open up, unwind the tight coil of his body and mind so that they could try to live like they did when they were teenagers. Somehow, things were easier then. Even if, you know, they had to overthrow an empire. They were younger, things were uncertain. And at the end of the day, they had each other.

Though, even now, even when they were all scattered about, Zuko and Katara always managed to find time for each other. 

She doesn’t quite remember when the shift happened between them. When she starts cherishing every little moment they have. 

Like when she was writing to him in the dead of night to discuss building plans and contracts. Or when he’s personally making impromptu trips to the Northern Water Tribe to discuss trade regulations in person, instead of sending an adviser in his place (but mainly to eat the tribe’s signature pickled fish dish with her after said meeting). Or when they’re spending time after each Fire Nation meeting covered in vomit and drinking whatever he managed to dig up from the palace cellar. 

_“I think that wine is mixed with dragon sperm.”_

_“And?” He takes a swig nonetheless._

Or when she managed to figure out Zuko’s love language was words of affirmation and _Love Amongst the Dragons_ fanart. And he figured out hers was murdering people who still used plastic straws. 

When they get the chance to not play larger than life roles, and just read documents in the Fire Nation palace library, fresh faced and in their sleepwear. Or when he complains about his chest hurting, just so she would have an excuse to stay the night, wrapped in his arms as they talked about everything and nothing all at once. 

Even when he’s thrown up two times in the corner of an Ember Island male strip club, and still throwing back shots of whatever alcohol he’s able to get his hands on, she files the memory for safekeeping in the back of her brain. 

“Why a male strip club?” Sokka is enjoying inebriated Zuko too much. 

“They have good fried squid!” Zuko excitedly chows down. “Plus, I was supposed to bachelorette the fuck out of Katara. I’ve had the rooms booked for months!” He even bought everyone metal penis straws. 

“I’m not getting married, Zuko!” 

“And what about it?” 

“I didn’t even know people were planning a wedding!” Katara ducks back when Suki bursts out laughing so hard she’s spitting. 

Aang had proposed years before, and Katara promised she would consider it when she had the time (she said she even wrote it down on a sticky scroll to look at later). 

Yet, this dumb bitch never did find the time nor the scroll. She was the queen of coddling the guy, and he had gone ahead with hiring caterers _and_ put a deposit down while Katara was back in the Southern Water Tribe, ass freezing in an office chair and busy drafting up plans to rebuild the tribe’s education system. 

(It hurt him more that they couldn’t get the deposit back than Katara saying she couldn’t squeeze a wedding into her calendar). 

“Everyone appointed me as your man of honor!” 

He’s eating too fast and Katara has to clear out his throat when he begins choking, but Suki can’t help but smile. It was a nice change of pace. He was always happier when Katara was around, but even more so tonight. The others don’t see it, at least not as often as she does. How lonely he truly was. Iroh had already made secretive pleas for the rest of their friends to try to visit as often as their schedules would allow, and with the rare moments where they all got to be together, it changed Zuko, making his everyday persona do a 180. 

Apparently, the strip club was a hot spot for vacationing tourists. A nearby hotel Zuko rented a few rooms from feeding its residents into the establishment. “I have a lump in my testicle!” A sunburnt man screams, slamming his head on the wet countertop before throwing back the two shots of fire whiskey he had in each hand. 

Katara screws her face into an incredulous stare. 

“Everyone processes pain differently, Katara,” Sokka nudges her. 

“Yeah, Madame Fussy Bitches, stop being a hater!” 

“It was Madame Fussy _Britches_!”

“Well, you’re a _bitch_! That’s why we all just pretend to like you!” Toph trips over herself, before catching and gripping onto Zuko’s shoulder. “She makes fun of me for being blind! Zuko, just last week she said your hair looked like an inbred naked mole rat’s pubes!” 

“Toph, stop being a cunt!” Katara gasps, and reaches out to swat at the girl. If only she wasn’t floating, or that could be the sip of cactus juice she stole from Sokka’s glass. 

“If we’re celebrating Bully Katara Day, I’d like to add that just because you remember to water a plant once a month does not signify mental stability,” Aang smirks. 

Katara squints. “ _To you_.” 

She grabs the smaller girl by her shoulders. “Stop being mean to me because you stopped growing at 5’2” and now you’re mad that you’re the same size as those trolls that live under bridges!” 

“You know what, _fuck you_ , Katara.” 

“Zuko? Your thoughts?” Katara’s tone made it clear he was supposed to pick a side, choose a winner in their argument. He abruptly turns his head, staring at a suddenly interesting looking sculpture instead of making eye contact with Katara’s blazing gaze. “Stop looking at King Kuei’s penis sculpture!” 

“What do you want me to say? _I’m scared of you_. Is that what you want to hear?” 

“No! You were supposed to be on my side!” Katara screams, pointing an accusatory finger in his face. 

She turns to Toph, bones too tired to keep the argument going. “If I say I’m pregnant will you stop being mean to me?” 

“No.” 

“That’s fair,” she murmurs, rubbing at her temples. 

“Guys, why is his penis curved like that?” Suki hollers from the stage, where she’s managed to shove her entire face into the crotch of one of the dancers, while trying to throw coins in the little pouches dangling from his groin. 

//

“Zuko get the fuck back over here!” Katara’s stumbling to the hotel, while attempting to hold up Suki. Toph is crawling behind, sometimes groaning to let everyone know she was barely alive. She thinks Sokka is currently yacking into a bush. 

“But—but! It’s stuck—” He hiccups. “In a tree! Baby needs me!” He points to the fire ferret whimpering above. 

“Zuko!” 

“Fuck you, Katara!” He jolts off and claws at the tree. Movements sluggish, and eyes squinting through the burgeoning high. He attempted to get everyone to try a “medicinal plant” Iroh had recently discovered and rolled into portable joints, and nearly burned down the club trying to light it with the lack of control and raw power his bending held when he was drunk. 

“Sokka put that boar-q-pine down!” 

“It’s a _cat_.” 

“You’re _bleeding_.” 

“But I need to burp it! Baby needs to be burped!” 

She was upset, appalled, perhaps even bootytickled by the time she went to check up on Zuko in his room. Spending two hours trying to get Aang, Suki, and Toph to bed while she was healing various cuts on Sokka’s body was _not_ how she envisioned the night going. 

At the same time, it was nice to see everyone again. Though, she’d never admit it out loud. “Thank you, for doing all of this for me. It’s the most fun I’ve had in a long time.” 

Tucked securely against him, she can’t help the goosebumps that form on her body. 

“Anything for you, Katara,” he slurs in his drunken voice.

When she looks into his eyes, it’s like coming home. “Hey, I think I missed you.” 

“I think I’ve missed you, too.” He presses a gentle kiss in the crown of her hair. 

//

“Shit fuck of an arctic camel pussy lip!” 

Zuko had not envisioned waking up that morning to Katara sleeping soundly beside him, wrapped in nothing more than the scratchy sheets of the hotel. He certainly did not envision Katara’s immediate reaction when she wakes to see him in a much too similar state to kick him so hard, he’s falling to the floor in an ungraceful heap of morning wood and dirty blankets. 

She’s dressing as fast as her limbs could move, trying to avoid Zuko’s burning gaze. 

“Katara, wait!” 

“I can’t hear you, bitch!” 

“Friends eat other friends out sometimes! It’s fine!” 

“ _Goodbye_!” 

“Katara, just—just hold on a second.” They’ve made their way to the balcony, the gentle rays of sunlight peeking through to the wee hours of the morning. “What’s really wrong?” 

“This can’t happen again!” She lies. 

“It won’t if you don’t want it to,” he says simply, pulling an undershirt over his body. 

“Zuko.” He meets her eyes. “What are we doing?” 

Everything just felt so much more intense between them. It’s how easily they solidified the move away from the precarious borders of friendship and lovers they’ve spent the last few years in, and straight towards one clear answer. Drunken mistake or not, she knew the feelings that laid dormant were bound to come to light. 

They grew up in a world where emotions were muddled instead of being clear cut, where love rarely made sense. Where 'I love yous' at their age could be empty sentiments, more so meaning 'if this is your last memory of me, I want it to last.’ 

Things were different for them, though. Life was different now. 

Whatever they have, whatever new territory they’ve entered, they were just _so close_ to a place she wasn’t sure she was excited or scared for. So close she could taste it. 

Her heart is being left wide open and she just wants to fill the spaces with Zuko. 

“I trust you with my life, Zuko. Is it bad I’m scared? I’m scared to trust you with my heart.” She doesn’t miss the way his face gives way to disappointment, before settling into an expression she can’t read. “I just don’t—I just can’t lose you. I don’t know what I’m doing.” 

“You don’t have to. You don’t have to know what to do next right now.”

“But—”

“We’ll figure this out. You and me, we always do.” He doesn’t know if he’s saying it for her sake or his. “You can’t get rid of me that easily. I’m always going to be here. It’s always going to be Katara and Zuko.” 

What they don’t tell you, world-saving warriors or not, is that no matter how much you think you’ve figured your life out, how much you think you know the people around you, you know absolute jack shit. It’s easy to pretend things could stay the same when you’re younger. 

They don’t tell you how easy it is to grow, until the ones you loved were nothing more than strangers of your past. 

It’s happened with Aang, it’s happened with Mai.

Yet, even years later, when she’s just rediscovering new parts to Zuko, and with every different iteration he sees of Katara, they’ve always managed to make it work. 

For the first time, she’s hesitant to look him in the eye. She was afraid to get lost in feelings that were explosive and dangerous, and everything she needed at the same time. She’s afraid of losing him to something as finicky as love. 

At the same time, she just wants to get this right.

“I’m always going to be here for you. No matter what.” 

Her smile is contagious. 

“Promise?” 

“Promise.” 

//

He misses her. 

It was strange, not to hear from her, or to see her at the once a month meetings. But, he knew that she’s been playing one of the largest roles, if not the largest role, in the Southern Water Tribe’s reconstruction project. He can live without getting immediate feedback on his tea jokes ( _Am I boba? Because I need someone to suck my balls._ ).

It was _perfectly_ fine. 

Iroh tries ignoring his nephew’s incessant pacing. 

He threw himself in his work even more so, and for the first time since he became Fire Lord, things were working out according to his plan. Pieces were falling into place, long-term reparation funding plans he drafted up weren’t scoffed at as “childish.” 

Then again, it still hurts when there isn’t a peep from Katara’s end after he sends messages about his small victories. He knows she’d be proud to hear that General Kim even took up her advice and stopped stealing the entire fire flake snack plate that was mainly for decorative purposes in his office. 

“ _She hates me_.” 

Sokka and Aang grimace. It was meant to be a night complete with Fire Nation festivities. For once, the nations were working together after years of petty arguments on creating a worldwide program to distribute Fire Nation funds to citizens impacted. Plus, the nations recently signed on to developing a global education system in order to promote new ways of thinking. The future looked bright. 

“Zuko, stop. Katara couldn’t hate you, even if she tried,” Aang gently pats at his pointy shoulders (a result of his new robes. Zuko wonders if Katara would hate it as much as he did). 

“Be honest. Did I fuck up? How did I fuck up? Where exactly did the fucking and upping even begin?”

“Zuko, you’re not making any sense,” Sokka gently reprimands, in a fashion so similar to his sister. 

“I know,” he groans, undoing his updo. Her new robes were collecting dust in the corner of his room. He’s lost count of how long it’s been. 

“ _Sokka, tell him_.” Aang whispers, much too loud for his own good and Zuko’s ears perk up. 

“Tell me what?” 

Sokka pins the monk with a venomous look. “You know, it’s already easy to hate you because you’re bald. Why do you keep pushing your luck?” 

“ _Sokka!_ ” 

Sokka bitterly laughs, the dry thing zapping the energy from the room. His face immediately grows dark, and he slumps down on Zuko’s bed. “ _It’s better that he doesn’t know_.” 

The color immediately drains from the boy’s face. “It’s my fault, Zuko. I’m—I’m the one who fucked up.” 

“Sokka, _please_.” 

A beat of silence passes between them. Sokka is still worrying at his lip, gnawing at the skin until it breaks. 

“Katara doesn’t remember who you are, Zuko.” 

//

When Hakoda and Sokka had negotiated a deal with the Northern Water Tribe, they thought they finally got a chance to reunite the tribes together. Apparently they’ve been sitting on a multibillion dollar oil reservoir, and the North immediately started sending their men to build factories to access it. 

At first, they thought it would be a chance to boost the economy. A step in building the Southern Water Tribe to rival its sister. It was a momentous decision, made on the day of the Southern Water Tribe Chief’s birthday. 

Of course, The Painted Lady wasn’t having any of that. 

“It was a trap, though. They infiltrated our communications. They knew it was perfect bait, and when she arrived, they attacked her with a poison she couldn’t bend away fast enough.” 

Ozai’s old followers were ramping up attacks on Zuko, and while he managed to increase Kyoshi security on his front, he didn’t think he had to worry about his friends. They were the strongest fighters he knew, and were in the highest positions in their respective nation. Too far and out of reach of the Fire Nation assassins focused more so on hurting the Fire Lord. 

“It’s not your fault.” Sokka wasn’t sure how much he believed in his own sentiment. He knows it’s just too easy to blame Zuko, he knows it would be too easy to forget the fact he failed to protect her, too. 

The toxin was meant to kill her, slowly, painfully. They wanted to hurt the Fire Lord any way they can. Even if it meant taking out the person who had stolen his heart. 

Katara was always made of tougher stuff, though. 

Their healers watched on as she convulsed, her body fighting to expel it. 

Ozai’s Warriors anticipated this, and managed to manipulate the toxin in case she was able to fight it. Some of the toxin remained to warp her memories. She couldn’t form new ones beyond the day of her accident. On top of all of that, no matter how much she tried, she couldn’t remember exactly who Zuko was. 

They had her recall random moments throughout her life, just to figure out exactly where her memory was impacted. She was able to clearly recall memories at random. Except any with _him_. Every moment he’s had with him, every second they shared. It’s all fuzzy and blurred and barely a whisper of a thought. 

Once they caught wind of what had happened, healers from the North came running to advise, especially after the master waterbender woke up and demanded to continue working on her projects. 

“They think we shouldn’t rattle her. Overwhelming her could cause her body to go into shock. They need more time to come up with a solution.” 

Zuko takes in the beauty of their family’s home, the sparkling, ice chandelier glittering in the few beams of morning sunlight, created with a precision only Katara was capable of possessing. He felt like he was in an extravagant palace. Not the “humble” home she was always describing in her letters.

Every day, their family reenacts the same day. The day of her accident. He watched in silence as Sokka laid out the October 13th daily news scroll at their doorstep, which Hakoda printed hundreds of copies of in case the solution wasn’t discovered quick enough. 

Sokka throws away the cake Katara baked the night before, setting out the ingredients in the exact place she placed them in order to not rouse suspicion. He even takes down the decorations for Hakoda’s birthday party, just so they could put it back together as a family, and he easily destroys the ice sculpture she made for the chief the night before. 

She got Hakoda tickets to The Southern Water Tribe Hockey Team game held the same night as his birthday in the village square outside their home. So, every night for the past few months, the team comes to reenact the same game, with the same score, with the same exact uniforms advertised on their flyers months before. 

“She doesn’t know how much time has passed since our dad’s birthday. We’re going to keep it like that.” 

“That’s fucking crazy!” 

“Do you have a better idea, bitch?” Sokka chastises, ego thoroughly bruised. 

“So what you’re saying is that I have to make her remember who I am and have her fall in love with me again in order to jog her memories?” 

“No! That is not what I’m saying _at all_. Where the fuck did you even get that—” 

“Even if it takes repeating the moment we meet over and over again?” 

Sokka grabs Zuko by the shoulders, trying to shake some sense into him. “That is 100% not what I was even talking about! What are you—”

“Move, bitch! I need to practice my pout.” 

//

“What’s wrong with him?” 

Katara was sure she was pretty familiar with most of the customers that come through her grandmother’s cafe she and Pakku built. She had a routine set in stone since the war’s end. After a meeting with the tribe’s politicians for an early morning discussion, she eats breakfast at the cafe, and then helps teach the Northern Tribe’s waterbenders studying abroad at the South Pole to learn from Katara herself. 

She swears he looks familiar, but just couldn’t quite place him. Of course, she would remember the scar, but she didn’t have time to mull over it when she was terrified the longer he continued to look at her. 

“Gran Gran, why is that guy over there staring at me?” 

“You think he’s cute?” Gran Gran smirks. She pours the same, routine tea into her mug. 

Katara scoffs. She wanted to hate that her grandmother knew her too well. “I hate when men look at me for free.” 

Kanna tried holding back her smile as she refilled the firebender’s cup. 

“I just want to talk to her,” Zuko says without any prompting on her part. 

“What did Sokka say?” 

The firebender slouches in on himself. “He would disembowel me with a machete if I did.” 

There’s a twinkle of mischief in the grandmother’s eye. “You know, he’s the boss.”

He groans the slightest, before immediately straightening his posture. Kanna found it endearing, even if his attempts to appear regal in front of her were more of a haphazard venture. 

“You don’t have to try so hard with me, you know.” 

Zuko meekly nods. “Again, I am so, incredibly sorry that—”

“Yeah, yeah. Your colonizer phase. We all remember the bald spot.” 

Zuko pouts just a brief second. 

“How are you enjoying _laying low_ ?” She emphasizes the words with an expert slicing of an unidentifiable meat to his right. He wants to groan, because _of course_ old people gossipped. 

Zuko had taken off the night he found out about Katara without a second thought. Iroh quickly insisted Zuko continued to stay. Just while he investigated the Ozai Warriors organization. At least then, Zuko had time to help find a cure to Katara’s condition. No word had hit the scroll news cycle. With the nations relatively ignorant to the Fire Lord suddenly finding himself on the other side of the world, Iroh hoped to ambush the group. 

Plus, he’s sure his nephew could use a break. He’s gathered that much, when there’s no urgency behind Zuko’s begrudging agreement to Iroh’s plans. 

//

“Zuko, why the hell did you just slap me with the fish?” Sokka rubs away at his face, trying his best to wipe away the smell. 

“Sometimes you need a fish slap to calm yourself down!” 

He never thought he was good with animals. Though, he likes to think he’s now _at least_ acquantines with Appa, especially after he bought the bison new, custom-made armor. 

_“Drip or drown, you know the drill. Appa, drip drip!”_

_Aang made eye contact with the bison. “Appa said you’re making him uncomfortable.”_

_“He didn’t say anything!”_

_“Ok, fine. You made me uncomfortable.”_

Yet, like single, forty year old men to foot fetishes, the animals of the Southern Tribe were strangely and intensely attracted to him. Local vets quickly took him on as an apprentice, and he was having more fun than he had in months. 

//

“I’m into fish.” Zuko had clumsily been shoved into the booth by Kanna, tired of watching them awkwardly eye bang for the last twenty minutes. 

“Flirting is childish! Can’t they just say they want to taste each other’s private parts already!” She throws her hands up in exasperation. 

“ _Kanna_.” Pakku gently scolds.

Katara could only huff and puff. Her grandmother was much too meddling for her own good. Even if the stranger was cute. He looked like a tourist, just based on how the blue of the jacket brought out his jet black hair and pale skin, to the point where it was almost distracting. Almost. 

“Well not _into_ fish exactly. More like working with it? I guess we’re coworkers?” Zuko rubs the back of his neck while waiting for Katara’s reaction. 

“I knew something smelled like pussy around here!” Her light giggles hypnotizes him. 

“I like your laugh,” he blurts out, without a second thought. 

Kanna rolls her eyes. 

“What if I told you I like it when you make me laugh?” Katara lets her smile reach her eyes when the boy across from her bites on his tongue and begins stumbling over his words. She can’t remember having this much fun teasing a guy. 

Before he could embarrass himself even more, she takes pity on him. Cutting through the babbles and blushes. “I’m Katara.” 

Zuko can’t seem to breathe properly, his lungs failing him when he makes eye contact with her. It tears his heart apart when he meets her outstretched hand. “Zuko. Nice to meet you.” 

//

Every day it was like a new challenge. A new puzzle to see how she would respond to him. Without past memories, he had to be creative to catch her attention. 

He tried asking her advice on his ice sculpture as she idly made one out of her tea. The best he could offer was some snow he shoved in his pockets before coming into Kanna’s Cafe, and she pretended she spoke another language. 

Another time, he tried helping her build a tiny fortress out of her kale cookies. But he’s soon shoved back to his own seat. “I may look cute, but please keep your distance.” 

When he starts loudly grumbling after stomping back to his booth, she quickly puts him in his place. A miniature ice version of his head on a spike lands in his lap. 

//

“I was an understudy for the Ember Island Players for like 2 weeks.”

Sokka lets out a dry laugh. “And for what?” 

Zuko indignantly crosses his arms over his chest. “You never know when the economy’s going to change. What if I need to change career paths when I’m 30? Everything is really up in the air.” 

“You make it so hard to like you.” 

“Just sit back and _watch_.” 

He looked especially confident at the start of that day, even putting on the cafe uniform and making and serving tea. Only for her would he ever willingly venture into customer service again. 

“I bet you two halibuts he’s going to fuck up,” Sokka peers from behind the daily scroll. 

“Sokka, stop breathing so close to me.” 

“Sorry, Gran Gran,” he shrinks under her judgemental glare. 

“I didn’t know Gran Gran was hiring.” Katara sips the tea and nearly grimaces, but keeps her face neutral. Especially when the server was just so cute. 

“Yeah! I saw the—,” his body twitches. 

“What’s wrong?” He wants to kiss away the furrow of her brows. 

“Nothing! I just—,” his face contorted in pain. Planting himself in her booth, he rubs at his chest. 

“Sorry, it’s been hurting and I have been trying to—” another twist of his features and Katara immediately sits by him. 

“You don’t happen to know a healer nearby, do you?” He grabs her hand and presses it to his chest. “I think someone just stole my heart.” 

He hesitantly peers up to her and has to bite his tongue when her concern morphs into something so devious. 

“Fuck all the way off!” Katara yelps. He expects a recoil, maybe even a slap to the face. Perhaps even his penis being sliced off with an ice spear (it automatically twitched in fear). 

Instead she’s just laughing uncontrollably, her whole whole body shaking. “This was literally the worst pickup attempt anyone’s ever tried on me.” 

“Do I get an award?” He crowds her space, still holding her hand, and is too close to her blushing face. 

“Depends. How bad does it hurt?” She mocks with a baby voice. 

He pretends to ponder the question seriously. “I really need an in person consultation.” 

When she challenges him with a quirk of her brow, he just lifts his tunic, unabashedly revealing the toned muscle, along with the scarred skin.

“You’re just showing off at this point!” Sokka hisses from the booth directly behind Zuko. Insecurely, he began rubbing up and down his stomach to find the definition. He swears he saw an ab. 

“I don’t need to know waterbending to make you wet.” 

She gags. 

“Too strong?” 

“You’re disgusting.” 

Her blush grows to an even prettier shade of pink. 

“I think I might know a healer.” 

“Yeah?” He doesn’t miss her disappointment when he lets his shirt fall. 

“I have to get to teaching my classes, but I promise you if you come by tomorrow night. I’ll point you to the right place.” 

“I’m Lee.” He holds out his hand. 

“Katara, nice to meet you,” she says, unable to tear her eyes away from his. 

//

“Stop coming here!” Sokka brandishes his boomerang without a second thought. 

Zuko petulantly juts out his lip. “But _why_!” 

“You’re going to trigger something! Something _big_ ! And then what? _Boom_!” 

Zuko waits for Sokka to elaborate, but it never quite comes. “Wait, what’s going to happen?”

“I’m not sure. That’s why I said _boom_. You know, I feel like it’s a blanket term that covers most of our bases.” 

“Sokka, I think we’re getting somewhere with her.” 

“She’s not going to remember who you are tomorrow!”

He groans when Zuko doesn’t even budge, just setting his face into an even more determined scowl. “Here, I have something for you.” Zuko excitedly watches on as Sokka reaches into his pockets. 

He’s always a sucker for surprise gifts. 

Until that surprise is a boomerang chucked to the head. 

“What the fuck was that for?” Zuko rubs at the spot that was hit, wincing as it pricks with pain. 

“You're out of pocket.” He reaches back in his jacket pocket and throws a hard candy at him. “Get the fuck out!” 

//

Her routine was simple, really. 

After eating at Kanna’s cafe, it was off to teach bright eyed waterbenders. Then, it was time to go home to celebrate her father’s birthday. 

Usually, her otter penguin commute was completely ordinary. 

Yet, on this particular day, she wants to scream. Of course, there was talk about some of the younger kids angry at the prospect of waterbenders from the Northern Water Tribe visiting to learn from her. The council had received stories of teens rebelling and starting fights with some of the students. 

It was jarring to her that their once close knit community could transform into people hurting one another. The tribes once considered each other family. 

“Oh fuck nuts!” She immediately leapt off the otter penguin, screaming at the hooded figure to stop kicking a poor, innocent person.

“Why the fuck are you hitting so hard?” Zuko squawks. Aang wanted to visit Katara in between his regular tours of every nation. Zuko immediately enlisted his help in reenacting a roadside robbery.

“Sorry!” Aang yelps, continuing to kick as hard as ever.

“At this point, you’re doing this on purpose.” He narrowly misses Aang’s toes to his nostrils. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Now that Sokka was firm on banning him from Kanna’s Cafe, Zuko figured he could meet her on her otter penguin ride to work.

“Why does she have an icicle bat, Zuko?” Aang whispers, as Katara charged towards him. 

“ _Run!_ ” 

Katara’s petite frame didn’t mean her continuous smacks didn’t hurt like a bitch. 

“You got him!” Zuko insisted when he kept hearing flesh against the icicle bat. 

“Not good enough!” she screams back curtly. 

Aang immediately began to run even faster, outpacing the waterbender, who sends an avalanche of snow pummeling towards him in retaliation. 

She rushes back to Zuko, all flushed and breathless and ever so pretty despite beating the shit out of the Avatar. 

“What’s your name?” Her smile makes his knees weak. 

//

He waves back and forth, trying to get her attention. If he didn’t, then he spent the whole morning breaking the side of a sled with a spear for nothing. 

“Thanks for helping me. Not many people would stop on their work commute.” He stares in awe as she pieced together sled parts with ice. Her waterbending was so delicate with meticulous technique, something you couldn’t look away from even if you tried. He’s no stranger to seeing her concentrated. In the zone with her element. Somehow, it’s always mesmerizing watching her. He doesn’t think he could ever get tired of it. 

When everything was set into place, he’s about to start moving in the contraption. But of course, because he’s dramatic, he pretends to slip and play dead on the ice, hoping to go _just kidding_! And then everyone would start laughing! He was a comedian in a past life, he swears! 

But of course, she starts crying. 

“Oh shit dicks,” her murmurs under his breath. “It’s a joke! See! It’s a joke. I’m _perfectly_ fine!” He gets up right away, coming to rub her shoulders. 

“Why would you do that? That’s the worst fucking joke ever.” She turns her head slightly lashes fluttering closed. Looking every bit devastatingly beautiful. She wipes a tear with a mitten-clad hand. “My grandpa died fixing his sled.” 

Zuko wants to kill himself right there and then. “You know what? Feel free to behead me. Just let me know the time and place, and I’ll be there. If you won’t, I am going to just throw myself off—” 

He can’t even finish his thought, when she immediately bursts into laughter. 

“Sike! Got you, silly bitch!” 

He blows pieces of his bangs away from his eyes. “Very funny.” 

He’s walking her back towards her otter penguin, before he sees some loose snow from the cliff above her wobble. The same cliff she sent flying towards Aang the day before. He doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around her waist and barrel roll them away from the impending destruction. 

When she opens her eyes all she sees is him. She hesitates for a moment. 

Why does his touch feel so familiar? 

//

“He would go to Yue and back for her, huh?” Hakoda watches on as the Fire Lord himself sweeps at their home’s frosty floor, grumbling when he finds a stray snow rat Sokka refused to capture and release outside meandering about. After Katara’s long gone to bed once their daily reenactment was done, Zuko would pop up from the little home he decided to rent near the veterinarians he worked under. At the exact same time every day, helping Sokka and Hakoda clean up. 

“It’s fucking weird,” Sokka maintains, eyeing the boy with fascination. 

Kanna slaps him on the back of his head. “It’s endearing.” She pauses a beat. “Ok, maybe a little weird, but that’s love!” 

He never gave up hope, even if everyone else was about to. 

Absentmindedly, Katara crafts up a new sculpture the next day. Yet, something was different. 

It isn’t easy to ignore Katara when she’s singing.

It’s all out of tune and sounds like a hairless cat masturbating. Sokka recognizes the simple melody, an old song they would sing as children. It’s the first time he’s heard her sing it in years. The last time he heard it, his mom was singing along, too. 

//

“What is he _doing_?”

Zuko’s been clandestinely shoving mini papers filled with tea jokes every so often when he serves a table nearby her. 

“He looks like a dumb bitch to me!” She swats Pakku away from her face. 

Before she could interrupt the stranger’s many sweaty attempts to flirt with her, she sees one of the transportation patrollers she’s been trying to get rid of out of their new budget. 

“You can’t fine an otter penguin!” She protests, nose to nose with a teenager. 

“It was just passed a few months back, otter penguins for transportation need to be formally registered.” The girl looks bored out of her mind, much more preoccupied with detangling random knots in her hair. “I don’t see a collar or a license to own this otter penguin, I have to take it in.” 

“You’re fucking crazy! That bill wasn’t supposed to be debated on for months!” 

She gasped. 

//

Time seemed to stop. 

It was starting to make sense. The lesson plans she doesn’t remember changing last minute, even when Sokka insisted that she promised to teach her students a different move than her routine planned for. Or when she walks into meetings and the first thing people do is scribble in the right hand corner of every document, before handing it to her. 

It doesn’t mean the devastation isn’t any less excruciatingly painful. 

Sokka scrubs a hand over his face, and Hakoda just watches on, carefully taking a bite out of her cake they forgot to throw out yesterday. “Katara, talk to me.” 

“Fuck. You.” 

“It’s not Sokka’s fault,” Hakoda insisted, leveling his gaze with his daughter’s. They couldn’t stop her from running to the harbor, screaming out on the deck until her throat was ripped raw. 

“How could you guys let me _live like this_?” 

She felt sick, seeing the hundreds of scrolls Hakoda printed out. She punched her bedroom door until it cracked, stomped along to the healers, demanding an answer and not getting one. Even just breaking down and crying couldn’t alleviate the anger, the rage, the fear. 

For the first time in her life, she felt like giving up. 

She thinks it hurts even more, seeing and hearing about the guy who’s been trying to make her fall in love with him every single day. Hoping to rattle anything, hoping to find a cure. 

“He helped you find mom’s killer. He saved your life. Lightning to the chest and all,” Sokka revealed, while Zuko cooks dinner for the family, equally as overwhelmed as Katara when she starts trying to fill the gaps in her memory. 

“I’m sorry I’m not better looking,” Zuko throws over his shoulder while he stirs at the pot, trying to lighten the mood. 

She comes close to inspect him, eyes roaming his face. “So you’ve just been trying to hit on me every single day. Put in the effort to make me fall in love with you again every day, and hope that it brings back some sort of memory? Any memory of us?” He sheepishly nods, scratching at the back of his head. “Why?” 

He ducks his head. “I made you a promise I have every intention of keeping.” He shrugs, as though he was stating something as mundane as what the color of his piss was that day, and not the fact that his heart was practically hers for the taking. 

Her hand finds his scar without a second thought. It was almost second nature, as though she was having an out of body experience. 

Zuko can’t seem to breathe properly, his lungs failing him when she makes eye contact with him. He swears he sees it. He swears he sees the flash of recognition in her eyes. 

It was frustrating. To have the pieces of the puzzle just slowly come together. The blurry figure in some of the most pivotal moments she’s had in the last few years, just make sense. Even if most of her memories are spotty. 

It frustrates her even more that she couldn’t do anything. She couldn’t fix this mess she’s found herself in. No matter what she did, she wouldn’t remember him the next day. 

She doesn’t know why it hurts so much, when a storm was building underneath her, her head dizzy and heart wanting to shatter into a million pieces. And when all he does is send a sweet smile her way, she feels like she can breathe. 

//

Her day was starting off _very_ weird. 

While receiving a bowl of stewed sea prunes and bouquet of water lilies from a stranger were not the strangest thing to ever happen to her, she thought her father’s birthday would be a relatively normal affair. 

Until she opens up the wrapped box the guy had handed to her. 

“The Mechanist calls it a voice recorder.” 

“How did you even—” Sokka tries to keep his voice down while Katara listens closely to the tape. They watched from afar as her frown grows deeper and deeper. 

“An Arctic Hippo is surprisingly fast,” Zuko notes, matter of factly. 

“No it is not. Just admit you fed it extra ocean kumquats,” Sokka adamantly pokes him in the chest. 

“ _It_ has a name!” 

“Sorry, I didn’t realize Deborah was allowed off her diet.”

Zuko nervously swivels his head back and forth, checking as though his veterinarian mentors could hear inside Katara’s family’s home. “That is going to the _grave_ , ok?”

//

“Your coochie went on a swim, didn’t it? Toph pulls the green coat closer to her body, not quite adjusted to the cold. As soon as she could afford to take a few days off from constructing more metal bending academies, she was running off to the Southern Water Tribe. Though, she would rather itch her pussy in front of the White Lotus than tell Katara to her face that she missed her and was worried about her. 

“What?”

“Got so wet Zuko’s dick went slip and slide!”

“Toph, stop it,” Katara’s coughing so hard, she’s pounding at her chest. “Do you know CPR? Help me, hoe!” 

“No I don’t. Choke, bitch.”

Toph ducks when Katara’s water whip comes flying at her. 

“I didn’t know Sparky was so _romantic_. His penis is perpetually in a cage labelled “Katara’s Property” and only you have the key.” 

“Thank you?” 

“Own it, girl.” 

Katara rolls her eyes. “Goodbye.” 

“So what’s it like? You know owning Zuko’s dick?” 

“He’s _sweet_.” 

Her new routine was simple. Documents, mentoring, and then when she gets home at night, he’s there. Sometimes sparring with Sokka, or helping out with dinner. 

“Reparations,” is all Kanna says when Katara complains they were overworking the boy. Kanna slips a glance at the firebender’s ass when she thinks her granddaughter isn’t looking. 

Somehow, the night always ends with the two of them. Sometimes, she finds it in her heart to help him out with the dishes, just to splash him when he’s not looking. Whether it’s just a simple walk by the ocean, or trying to learn how to ice skate for her sake, she understands why he meant the world to her. 

“Zuko, stop falling!” She wheezes, holding him up the best she could as he grips on the edge of the rink for life. 

“Katara, stop being so _mean_.” He eats shit for the 20th time that night (she counted) and lets out a scream so loud even she jumps. “I think I just broke my nipple.” 

Katara relies more on her journal, something she’s picked up ever since she listened to the recording device the first time. It helps, after listening to it every morning, and then reading through what’s happened the day before. Even though sometimes after she reads through the stories he tells her about them, she slaps him upside the head. 

“You should’ve sat there and ate your sea slug.” 

He makes an indignant noise. “I jumped in front of lightning for you!” 

“No one asked you to do that!” She squeals when he grabs at her sides. 

“If you call me a bitch, but ‘Katara’s’ in front of it,” he insists, pulling her into his lap. 

Each moment is so sickenly sweet, but she just can’t seem to get enough. 

//

“So, how do you play this?” Zuko laces up his shoes clumsily, trying his best to not let his eyes leave her. 

She picks up the icy ball, bouncing it between her hands with her bending. “Zuko, it’s just otter penguin bowling.” 

“I feel like something about this is unethical.” 

“They belong to a union, it’s fine.” 

Katara rolls the ball so fast, the penguins immediately jump out of the way. “Fuck yeah!” She roars, startling the teen working the counter, wiping down shoes. “Now where did all the otter penguins go?” She puts her hand up to shield her eyes like a mock visor. “They were just here! Where could they have gone?” 

“Think they went straight to your head,” Zuko deadpans, ducking when she swats at him. 

“Hater!”

“Let’s raise the stakes.” He smirks. “If I manage to get a strike, you have to build an anatomically perfect sculpture of me. 19 foot long, horse cock and everything.” 

She scoffs. “Not happening.” 

“Different bet then.” 

“I’m listening.” 

“If I get a strike...sorry _when_ I get a strike.” He pretends to contemplate the thought for a second. “You have to kiss me.” 

He winks at her with his good eye, and she thinks if she could roll her eyes any further, they’d get stuck in the back of her head. At this point, she might prefer it like that. 

“You’re on.” 

As a warrior trained since birth, he channels all those years of intense fighting, world renowned athleticism, and extraordinary precision into beating Katara at her own game. 

“C’mon!” Zuko does the thing everyone does when their bowling ball lands in the gutter. He tries waving his hands towards the penguin pins in hopes of somehow manifesting the ball changing direction last minute. 

He’s too much. Looking as handsome as he does, while still blushing like they were teenagers again. 

“I guess that kiss has to wait.” When he reaches for another ball, Katara just grabs him by his collar. 

“Does it?” 

As she presses her lips to his, he thinks it isn’t fair. How she looks like an angel who lost her way from the heavens above than a girl he was trying to make laugh. 

//

“This is fucking _crazy_!” Katara screeches, as though threatening the teen at the counter would do anything. With the delay in contract cancellations being delivered, The Northern Water Tribe accidentally began drilling a few nights before. Right next to the bowling alley. Unfortunately, date night had to be cut short when drilling was shaking the entire alley to its core. 

“You know, destroying conglomerates was our thing,” he nudges her gently, until she’s smiling, too. 

“I don’t know, Zuko,” Katara says softly, gnawing on her lip. 

“Katara,” the girl at the counter whispers. “I just spoke to my manager. You won’t get a refund for the bowling shoes.” 

“But we paid for the full two hours,” Zuko pouts. 

“That’s it!” She huffs. “This could’ve waited, but they just had to ruin date night didn’t they?” 

She cracks her knuckles. 

“Hold my hair,” she unclips her extensions and dumps them in Zuko’s hands. 

“Ok, babe.” 

"Yuh, get into it!" He screams, mouth full. He continues munching on a fried arctic hen as Katara sends a larger than life wave through the windows of the factory. “Need any help?” 

“Don’t get crumbs in my hair!” 

//

For the first time in her life, she feels like an idiot. 

“I need to um. Do water.” She tries shuffling away as he drops her off at her door. 

“ _Do water_?”

“Yes,” she squeezes out, tripping over her own feet in the process. What? Bad bitches get nervous, too. 

Any sight of her confidence seemed to disappear when she watched on from her position blowing up the factory. He’s carefully holding onto her hair while fighting off any guards that stood in her way. 

It was fascinating watching him fight. Seeing the power and precision he held in each movement. Even without firebending, he was one of the strongest fighters she’s seen. Something about it made her scared. Of what they were becoming. It was strange she was getting attached, when he had a whole life in the Fire Nation and now he had to worry about her, too. 

Growing up, she could never fathom being someone’s burden. How could she, when she was the one responsible for so many people? When she was the one that fought for others, when she was occupied with raising a village from the ashes while figuring out how to raise herself? Growing attached to someone, growing to love someone just seemed so out of reach when she’s up to her nose in work. 

Zuko made her believe in the impossible, and she was scared and _embarrassed_. Scared that he pitied her above anything else. Terrified at the fact that one day he was going to leave. When things got too much. When she got too much. 

Somehow, when she looks in his eyes, she feels lost. It’s like a galaxy, the stars twinkling and drawing her in until she has to force herself to look away. Being with him lets her escape reality, and get lost in a world they made for themselves. 

“ _Goodnight_ ,” he singsongs, with a wave, turning on his heel towards his lodgings. 

“Hey Zuko.” She calls out, after wringing her hands after what seemed like an eternity. “What if I’m not ready for the night to end yet?” 

He abruptly stops in his tracks, and turns his head. “Then I’ll stay.” 

He’s curled up against her in bed that night. 

“I can’t believe we got matching tattoos,” he whispers to her, eyes bleary despite trying his hardest to stay awake. 

“When?” She knitted her brows so adorably. “I don’t have any tattoos?” 

Katara was a lot of things. Scary? Yes. Intense? Definitely. A mean bitch? Constantly. 

Cute? Above all else. 

He thinks it’s a privilege, getting to watch her like this. Wiping at the cold biting her nose, or absentmindedly playing with his fingers. These moments where they got to be human, when they got to just be themselves. 

“You’re joking right? We were supposed to get matching ‘cum bender’ tattoos!” He gets up and rips off his shirt, flashing her his lower back. 

Katara has the audacity to just distractedly whistle, looking away before guilt paints her face. 

He surprises her with a kiss on the cheek. As retaliation, of course. 

Being around him, she was sure she was starting to remember. He jolted up in surprise when her hand brushed his bare chest before he could put his top back on.

It was as clear as day. 

When she thought she'd never be able to breathe again, those few moments after chaining Azula to the grate. When his heartbeat was nothing more than an inconsistent twitch. 

“ _Thank you, Katara_ ,” she says, even imitating his scratchy tone that day. 

His eyes light up. _“I think I'm the one who should be thanking you,_ ” he finishes. 

“Gross!” She groans. “We were so fucking _cheesy_. I just got heartburn from listening to all of that.” But, she’s sure it will be easier to sleep that night, knowing she could hear his heartbeat.

“Yeah?” He has to hold himself back from tearing up. 

“Why did you do it?” She asks quietly, tracing the pattern of the scar. 

“I would’ve done it for Momo, too you know. Not everything’s about you.”

She whacks a nipple, much to his dismay. 

“We’re a team. You and me. I just—I just couldn’t lose you.” He stares down at his palms. 

“You stupid bitch.” 

“Thanks,” he grunts. 

“Hey Zuko?” She plants herself in his lap, pressing even firmer against his chest. His eyes quickly flicker down to her lips. “Make me remember.” 

He licks his lips, and she almost wants to just back out right then and there. It was too addictive, being around him. “Remember what?” 

His touch. His taste. His love. 

When she kisses his lips, her heart races until she’s convinced it’s going to burst. 

“Us.” 

He presses his weight into her, settling between her legs. “I’ll try.” When she feels something that was definitely _not_ a boomerang evident on her thigh, her back rudely arches. He presses and presses, until she’s warm all over.

//

“Katara, wait!” 

“How, in the fuck, do you know my name?” 

Zuko’s sure he’s nursing a black eye, from how hard she shoved at him. He’s also sure the ground ripped off his skin after he was thrown off the bed and his bare ass cheeks were met with the icy floor. 

“Just give me a second, ok? Please don't hit me,” Zuko splutters, drenched head to toe as Katara keeps sending water attack after water attack. 

“I won't,” Katara’s still in a defensive stance and doesn’t budge, though. 

His eyes nervously dart to hers. “Swear on it.” 

“I swear to Agni!”

“Again, please!” Zuko slowly begins walking towards her, clutching the comforter to cover his body. 

She huffs, holding her hands up. “ _I swear to Agni_.” 

He breathes out in relief. “Ok, so basically—,” he chokes, clutching his throat. 

“Why did you just punch me in the throat!” 

“Surprise, bitch! I don't believe in Agni!” She just goes back to attacking him with the strongest waves she could muster. 

It isn’t until Sokka and Hakoda intervene and hand her the recording device that she stops her assault. Even then, she wasn’t convinced. She slipped under Sokka’s hold and froze Zuko’s nipples into prickly icicles. 

“You know, one of these days you should try to get him to wear sluttier clothes,” Katara and Kanna’s eyes flicker to the only blanket-clad Fire Lord in their living room. “I need to see some ass cheeks around here.” 

“Grandma!” She slaps a hand to her forehead. “Besides,” she plays with her hair. “I don’t think he can stay.” She overheard the conversation, while they thought she was listening to the recorder. 

_“What was the reason? What was the reason? What was the reason!?”_

_Zuko splutters. “I just explained the reason_ —” 

_“What was the reason, bitch!” Sokka screeches, getting up to throw his boot at Zuko. “You’re the Fire Lord!”_

_“So what!” Zuko throws up his hands. “Katara needs me. She’s getting better.”_

_“You don’t know that,” Sokka challenges. He was afraid to hold onto the hope Zuko seemed to have in spades._

“He has an entire nation to run, Grandma,” she grumbles, picking up the broken pieces of her dresser she flung Zuko across. 

“Who cares? Plus, they’re just a bunch of colonizers anyways!” 

She points to her grandmother. “True that.” 

//

It wasn’t perfect. Nothing was. He tried so hard, reading up the times when the sun would set because she said she hasn’t seen golden hour in so long with her busy schedule. Of course, it would be a foggy day, and of course she was craving ramen and of course she has him wrapped around her finger so he makes it for her. Tomorrow, she was just going to complain about looking and _feeling_ bloated and blame it on him and he couldn’t do more than kiss away her—

“It’s beautiful.” 

He swivels his head so hard it nearly gives him whiplash. “What?” 

Katara just smiles back at him. Savoring the few moments they still had together. She’s sure she could spend her entire morning, day, week, life living like this. With him, right by her side. 

He doesn’t question why she’s holding onto him so hard, why he enjoys it so much. “So what else do you want to know?” She made him promise to tell her any random memory he could bring up in the moment, and answer any of her questions when she was ready to ask them. She always had the recording device nearby, just to catch the moments and write about them later in her journal. 

“Tell me about a time I lied to you.” 

“The last time you weren’t honest with me? You held in your pee when we were riding Appa, because you refused to be wrong.” 

She huffs. “I was probably valid.” 

“You got a bladder infection,” Zuko clips. “Any other questions?” 

She hesitates, just for the briefest of moments. “Do you love me?” 

When he looks into her eyes, when his whole world has managed to be her since they were kids, he’s certain. He’s certain that he could wake up every morning, and if the only thing he could do that day is make her smile, he would take it. Even if she won’t remember who he was, even if she couldn’t even remember his name, even if she couldn’t stand to look at him, he would wake up the next day and do it all over again. 

It’s funny. How his heart only beats this hard when he’s around her. When it’s all but decided on its own that it belongs to her. But, she just looks at him, doubtful. Almost afraid of what he would say. As though he wouldn’t stop time for her, as though he couldn’t remember his life without her in it. 

“ _Maybe_.” He teases, earning a thorough slap on his ass that has him snickering. She’s pouting, even when she’s curled up to his side.

“You already know the answer.” 

**Author's Note:**

> title based on jhené aiko's while we're young [while we're young](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LjvwRSKVQNs) (the mv also has the same plot hehe)
> 
> I love u guys so much! how has everyone been doing? let me know, ok! only if you want to! I miss you!!
> 
> this was kind of a big drabble fdsiafjdiosafjdioafjdalf thank you so much to the commissioner for the post-canon Zutara request!! ♡


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